


One Day

by Singer_Diego_Rolldown (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Cracky, He's not on drugs I swear, I forgot about this work haha, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Singer_Diego_Rolldown
Summary: This is dedicated to all of you who are questioning any aspect of your identity.Me: You know what? this is good enough, I give up
Kudos: 1





	One Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all the people who are questioning](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=all+the+people+who+are+questioning).



> One Day  
> Crack treated seriously/ thing I thought up whilst showering (Well I’ll try)  
> Dear goodness Google translate reads things w e i r d l y. My goodness I can’t even.  
> By: Singer Rolldown
> 
> I started writing this a month or two ago, then I found it again. 
> 
> So, sorry if it's not the best.
> 
> Also why can't I figure out the format ano ba why.

One Day  
Crack treated seriously/ thing I thought up whilst showering (Well I’ll try)  
Dear goodness Google translate reads things w e i r d l y. My goodness I can’t even.  
By: Singer Rolldown

I walked over to the chair in front of me while looking at the weirdly green looking wall in the slightly dimly lit room where strangely, the lights seemed more focused on the center and most parts around it, except for the edges, with a medium sized bizarrely-shaped wooden thing the light seemed to come from and sat down on it from the side.

Ok Sior, you’re going to sit down, think and label yourself, basically organize your identity, I thought to myself, let’s do this. 

I sit down on the chair, hands hooking under it, pulling it closer to the table, I turn my head to look at the thing on the table in front of me. 

I say thing because I have little to no idea what this is.

On it, there was a messy, unholy tangle of several threads, thin and thick, some very colorful and others dull, some seemed to have been chewed on by a rabid animal, judging by the drool and the fact that it’s barely being held together by a small thin part, fuzz surrounding it. 

The more time I spend looking at it the more confusing it gets, the colors seem to be almost indistinguishable at times, and sometimes it feels like the congealed blob is distorting along with a part of the room, but not the entirety of it.  
Like in dreams where you for some reason now a type of information that you saw nowhere in the Dream I know it’s supposed to be well me sort of in a way I think…

“What am I looking at?” 

I say to nothing, no one and everything but no one answers because no one can’t answer and everything is more of this room, and like no one, this room can’t answer me.

Can it?

I look at the mint green walls and at the ceiling which only seemed to make everything worse as I started feeling slightly woozy and like I was awake at 4 am after a night and day of no sleep whatsoever.  


After a few slightly vomit inducing moments I determine that it can’t, well at least not much at the moment. I stare hard at the frustrating not-good-for-your-mental-health blob and slowly reach my hand towards it, making a weird sound as my hand started sinking into it. I felt around in the blob and felt strange clumps in there, but for some reason they didn’t fit in my hand, and some of the ones that did didn’t feel right.  
It made me feel sick to my stomach in a different way than the walls and ceilings made me feel, there was a strangely heavy and bad feeling of shame and unhappiness at the bottom of the pit that made me confused and question things, I eventually decide on just dropping those clumps, not really sure what to do with them or that piece of information.  
Then my eyes open and I become aware of the fact that I’m not sitting upright in a wooden chair because I was in the position I was in when I finally drifted off to sleep.  
I shift and shut my eyes in a feeble attempt to fall back asleep since it looked to be 1-4am in the morning which is probably not all that accurate since I didn’t exactly take a long time to look around the dimly lit room we call the living room, which doesn’t have a clock and really one of the few things I could use to tell that it was some time in between that was the fact that Iir was sleeping on the not that covered thin wooden couch and the knowledge that I twisted and turned for at least a couple of hours.  
Tired but awake I drag myself to the kitchen/dining area where I try to reenact the scene in my dream where I attempt to figure stuff out despite feeling my eyes droop. I let out a yawn and look down at the table, which was still looking sort of weird, seeing as I had just woken up.  
The hours flew by in a messy haze as I tried to process what I feel like, what I’ve experienced and other factors, and seeing as I couldn’t figure it out whilst fully awake I didn’t do much better half-asleep and very very tired.  
And that’s how Iir found me when she woke up, idly staring at the table and looking like I was going to fall over crash onto the table and either get a concussion and stay down(which wasn’t that likely as my head was also drooping and was closer to the table and since I wasn’t that heavy), or bolt upright and clutch my head. Thankfully though neither happened.  
“Sior? You’re up already? You should go back to sleep I can cook by myself; you look like you’re going to fall over in front of me.” Iir said, glancing curiously at me.

"It's nothing, I just had a weird dream."


End file.
